


But you're a king and I'm a lionheart

by felinedetached



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Gen, actually im not sorry i regret nothing, this is very sad im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 10:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13028892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felinedetached/pseuds/felinedetached
Summary: “We ran,” he says, voice broken.“We won’t run,” you promise in return, placing your hand on his arm. “They won’t wait for us, but we’ll stay and wait for them.”Dirk sighs, and his face tells you that he doesn’t like what you’re proposing. A waiting game. But a seer and a prince cannot take the castle back alone. Not yet.And he knows it.----------Howling ghosts they reappearIn mountains that are stacked with fearBut you're a king and I'm a lionheartAnd in the sea that's painted blackCreatures lurk below the deckBut you're a king and I'm a lionheartAnd as the world comes to an endI'll be here to hold your handBecause you're my king and I'm your lionheart





	But you're a king and I'm a lionheart

**Author's Note:**

> [King and Lionheart](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A76a_LNIYwE) by Of Monsters and Men

He kneels in front of the throne, accepting the duty that falls to him because he is the oldest and the heir. He kneels there accepting the crown that will destroy him, and you watch in silence knowing that all you can offer is support and counsel.

 

Your older brother has just sacrificed his life for the Kingdom of Derse, and as you stand by his side, waving at the cheering crowds below, you realise that the Kingdom of Derse doesn’t realise the gravity of Dirk’s sacrifice.

 

But you are the Princess of Derse, the High Seer of the Temple of the Dark Gods, and you know that you and your brother will sacrifice everything for this Kingdom anyway.

 

* * *

 

The city lies in shambles, fire sparking around the exterior walls. You look down at the place you were sworn to protect, see the castle lit up in the blue of mourning and victory, and ignore the ash falling like snow to rest in your hair and on your shoulders. Beside you, Dirk holds his crown in his hands, fingers gripping tight enough to dent the metal, and you know he blames himself.

 

“We ran,” he says, voice broken.

 

“We won’t run,” you promise in return, placing your hand on his arm. “They won’t wait for us, but we’ll stay and wait for them.”

 

Dirk sighs, and his face tells you that he doesn’t like what you’re proposing. A waiting game. But a seer and a prince cannot take the castle back alone. Not yet.

 

And he knows it.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes, your dreams show you ghosts and winter snow, high in the mountains you currently reside. Other times, they show you glimpses of the city in ruins, ruled by tyrannical dictators who would have had you and Dirk executed like they did your siblings.

 

Once, you saw a flash of vivid white magic and a gleaming sword, fighting back to back against the hordes who took your kingdom and winning. Those dreams give you the most hope - although you’re not quite sure how they will ever come true. Seeing is a passive magic, after all.

 

But…

 

“Who says it’s passive?” a girl in the mountains asks you, her form flickering in and out of view. “Magic is magic. You have a lot of it. You just need to learn to use it more aggressively.”

 

When you tell Dirk, he laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs until you become quite worried about this fit of hysteria, and then he looks at you with fire in his eyes.

 

“Learn it,” he tells you, and so you do. Various people - _the remnants of fear, one tells you_ \- from the mountains teach you how to harness your magic until the visions come on command and you can form weapons from its energy. These people are figures, like the girl who first taught you one of the fundamental rules of magic, and they are chained to the mountain by death and fear and magic.

 

“Do you like it up here?” you asked one once.

 

“We cannot leave,” was her only reply.

 

* * *

 

In between the magic lessons, you train with Dirk. You using needles of magic, summoned from nothingness and him with his Katana, both slowly and surely sharpening your skills. Eventually, the ghosts - _‘remnants’ the girl tells you once ‘call us remnants because that is all we are’_ \- remnants start to join in, using what they know of magic and of fighting to train you and Dirk until you both are strong enough to take on an army solo.

 

“Do you miss Derse?” Dirk asks you once, while you lie together under the starry sky.

 

“I will never forget why we came here,” you promise because you know what he’s really asking. _Is it worth it? Is Derse worth it? Would you prefer to stay here, with the remnants of the dead beneath the open sky?_

 

“Will you miss it here?” he asks, changing tactics and meaning.

 

“Yes,” you reply simply because you have made friends amongst the remnants and have come to love the sun and the moon and the sky. “Won’t you?”

 

Dirk’s voice is reluctant when he says “I’ll miss it,” and you both ignore the quiet cheer that rises up behind you.

 

Neither of you can forget why you came here. When you are gone, you will miss this valley and the people you met in it, but saving your homeland and avenging your siblings has always been the aim.

 

“Do you think we are ready yet?” Dirk asks you, three years after you left Derse to the invaders.

 

“This coming winter,” you reply, as somehow you just _know_ that this is the winter you saw in your dreams all those years ago.

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, and he has been asking far too many questions lately.

 

“You’re the King - you’re bound to do it, and I’m a Lionheart,” you tell him. “I would follow you anywhere.”

 

He stops asking you these questions for a while.

 

* * *

 

Snow touches your hair like the ash did all those years ago, but this time you are formed of fire and steel and death - _‘we will lend you our strength’ they told you ‘and in this battle and in any battle onwards you will never falter’_ \- and while the sight of your city taken over by invaders makes you sick to your stomach, you know that this army will have no idea what hit them.

 

Dirk’s gloved right hand clenches around the pommel of his sword, the left holding on to the reigns of the spectral horse he rides. You’ve forgone reigns all together, opting to leave yourself open for the two-handed style you prefer using in a fight.

 

“It is today?” he asks you, and you nod in confirmation. That vision from years ago was about today, you can feel it deep in your bones.

 

“Then let’s go,” he says grimly and gallops off the cliff and through the air towards Derse. You follow close behind.

 

The first fight is quick, bloody and brutal - more murder than a battle. A slit throat there, a needle through the eye of the other, and you are through the gates. Dirk’s crown glints in the light as you ride through the streets together, a beacon amongst the swirling white.

 

In the end, the two are you are the same as you have always been, waving to the people who slowly begin to line the streets, standing at open windows and in empty doorways to watch their former King and former Princess pass.

 

When you reach the plaza, you are greeted by a battalion.

 

“Stand down,” they tell you, and you throw back your head and laugh in response, summoning your needles from nowhere. You hear the _shink_ of Dirk’s sword sliding from its sheath from somewhere just ahead and slightly to your left.

 

The plaza is a massacre, and the people cheer as you and Dirk stand on opposite sides of the plaza, knee deep in bodies and drenched head to toe in the blood of your enemies. This time, it is Dirk who is laughing, the adrenaline coursing through his veins causing a slight hysteria. You relate.

 

Together, ghost horses left behind you march into the castle.

 

You find him overlooking the painted-black sea. He doesn’t turn when you enter, but he does catch the needle you throw at his head. When he turns, his smile makes both you and Dirk take a step back.

 

“Ah, the lost children of Derse,” he says, taking a sip from the glass of whiskey in his hand. “I had wondered where you had gone.” You don’t reply, and neither does Dirk, although his grip shifts on his weapon. Sighing, he turns around, draining the glass and pulling out a weapon of their own.

 

“The absence of talking means fighting, I presume,” he says, walking towards you. When neither of you move he sighs impatiently. “Come on Royals, _move_!” And the way he says _Royals_ in such a derogatory, insulting manner says he has no idea how things are run in Derse. It also sparks Dirk’s temper. You are quick to back him up, of course, throwing up a shield to block the knife that had been headed for Dirk’s back before you head off the assassin attempting to join the fight.

 

When you get back into the room, battered and bloody, you see Dirk on his knees, Caliborn above him, sword in hand. Dirk meets your eyes, and he swallows once before nodding.

 

“You’re _my_ King,” you tell him, ignoring Caliborn - much to his distaste - “and I’m _your_ Lionheart.”

 

And then you let go of the modicum of control you had over your magic, and feel nothing.

 

* * *

 

A single yellow rose rests at the entrance of a white marble mausoleum, in between the two carvings framing the door. The first depicts a woman, lightning in her hands, suns in her eyes and a lioness an imposing figure behind her. The second is of a man, sword in hand and crown in the other, an elegant castle rising from the ground behind him. Inside, a sword rests against a marble pillar, below the carved words marring its otherwise unbroken surface.

 

_To the King and his Lionheart, we wish them thanks and all the best._

 

_To the Lionheart and her King, we wish them thanks and all the best._

 

_To the King and the Lionheart, those who gave their lives for Derse._

 

_May they have no disruption in the eternal peace they earned after such an ordeal._

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [@felinedetached](https://felinedetached.tumblr.com/)


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